Seems like a passage taken,
Playing on the safe side,
Walls mushroom out of paper trails
Voices quieten;silhouettes of faces I know evaporate,
Seems the mirror’s reflection blurs
Seems walls dampen
And the stout scent of the room seems too much to bear.
Is this something that can’t be controlled?
It is by no consequence.
Every tea needs its sugar,
Find the tin; fixed for fill.
You can’t fall on a shortfall,
You already on the ground before you’ve been thrown
Doesn’t this just seem so pristine!
Wonderful how things seem to be
Because even perceptions and old ways alter
Like a deep and hollow chair of emotional bureaucracy
Can be replenished.
Change is good,
Soaring needs a push
Tickle the toe,
jazz to your own music’s cheer
Even the grotesquely immovable will be incited
By your rhythm
Being so close to the bottom,
In full sight of what lies beneath the vocation
A little lift, inhale and leap,
Brings you up, higher than the intention,
And suddenly you’re running…
I am running,
With A courage that stems from deep within
To push even through this on solid ground.
20 Oct 2011, 3:30pm, @work